Preconceived Notions
by BlueOrchid2
Summary: Since Potter turned down his friendship, Draco has always hated him on principle. But what happens when he starts seeing the real Harry beneath the Boy-Who-Lived title?
1. Chapter 1

Draco frowned as he spied his prey. He had his brow furrowed, and was reading a letter. He wondered who had written to him: the Boy-Who-Lived almost never received mail, a thing which had shocked Draco when he had noticed: surely his relatives would want to hear from him? After all, he lived in Hogwarts 10 months a year, seeing as he never went home for the holidays. It had been this fact which had made Draco start to really pay attention to his nemesis: after all he lived by the saying 'keep your friends close, and your enemies closer'. And so, fourteen year old Draco had started to really pay attention, to really look. He had noticed that Harry tended to let himself be bossed around by his Mudblood friend, and that the Weasel was really the one who started most conflicts, never being able to keep his big mouth shut. Draco had noticed that the Golden Boy didn't talk much, shied away from attention, and almost never truly smiled, except when he was flying, which this year wasn't even possible, seeing as that damn tournament was in place. All of this completely befuddled Malfoy, as it went against everything he had ever thought about Potter: after all, hadn't he been so arrogant to turn down his, HIS hand in friendship?! And how many times was it that a Malfoy actually treated you as an equal? And the boy was a half-blood to boot! And then, what about his godfather, Severus? Hadn't he always said that Potter was just as arrogant and attention-seeking as his father? But then, Draco mused, Harry hadn't been the one to start that feud, and he only ever spoke back after being heavily insulted, never without reason.

And now, a week ago that damn Goblet had spit out his name, binding him with a magical contract, as if his life wasn't usually adventurous enough. And the Weasel had had the gall to abandon Potter! As if he hadn't been sitting right next to him when it had happened, as if Harry's shock hadn't been broadcast for all the school to see. Draco thought that he would never forget that sight. The way Potter had just stared uncomprehending at Dumbledore, until Granger pushed him, and he stood, stumbling, his face finally morphing into shock, and as he staggered to the Head Table, and Dumbledore pierced him with the coldest glare Draco had ever seen on his wizened face, and Harry had finally started understanding the gravity of just WHAT had happened, and his face had paled so much that Draco had been afraid that he would collapse right there, in the middle of the whole stunned Great Hall.

And all of this led to Draco stalking the Boy-Who-Lived. It was dusk, and the last of the sun's rays reflected on the still waters of the lake. Potter has received an owl at dinner, not his usual white one, and after what looked like a number of scathing and offensive comments from his red-haired ex-best friend, he had walked out to the grounds, unopened letter in hand, and Draco had been powerless to do anything but follow.

And now Harry was reading the letter, his forehead creased with worry, and he looked torn between crying and raging: he looked like a kicked puppy, whose world was coming apart, and it was all his fault.

And without thinking much about it (or, as he would reflect on it later, without really thinking at all), Draco decided that he had had enough of Potter's moping around, and with every intention to denigrate and insult him into finally reiterating, and regaining his famous Potter temper which had been lost along with his will to fight this last week, he stormed up to the boy, and grabbed his arm, determined to offend the boy as usual… and was stopped midsentence by the pure anguish that reflected in those stunning green eyes. And that was how he somehow found himself with an armful of hysterical Boy-Who-Lived, sobbing on the shoulder of his best robes.

In that moment, Draco could never have imagined it would be the start of one of the most beautiful friendships the world had ever seen.


	2. Chapter 2

Was thinking of posting it as a series of oneshots, but decided to group them all in one in the end!

* * *

Draco grabbed Potter's arm, an insult on the tip of his tongue, when Harry turned to look at him, shocked. It was the eyes, Draco later mused, those big expressive eyes, hidden behind those horrible Muggle glasses, those eyes which were moist as if Harry was trying to hold back tears, and eyes which held the biggest weariness Draco had ever seen.

Now, a good Slytherin in this instance would have smirked, and used the other's momentary weakness to his advantage, gleefully manipulating the situation. But, Draco had never been a good Slytherin, despite the fact that most of the non-Slytherin population of the schools for some reason viewed him as his house's champion or something. He had never been able to keep his mouth shut, he didn't have many ambitions except living the rest of his life in luxury, and he certainly wasn't subtle, and subtleness was the basis of all things Slytherin.

And so, when he saw one of the most strong-willed (pigheaded, he privately thought) persons he had ever met look so broken, Draco for some reason stopped the insult coming from his mouth, and enveloped Potter into a hug.

It was only a few minutes later, when he was rocking a desperately sobbing Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Saviour of the Wizarding World, trying and failing to comfort him, that he actually realised the gravity of what he had truly done.


End file.
